


Tunnel Vision

by agentx13 (rebelle_elle)



Category: Captain America (Comics), Marvel 616
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-11
Updated: 2013-09-13
Packaged: 2017-12-23 04:12:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/921854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rebelle_elle/pseuds/agentx13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An alt for Issue 10 of Captain America, after Steve comes back home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Time Apart

His wounds had healed, but Steve’s steps were still slow as he walked through the tunnel. Ian, gone. Sharon, gone. Years must have passed back home - No, here. He has to think of it as “here” again. He doesn’t know what he’ll find, but he’ll face it. He knows that. He’s fallen, but he’ll get up again.

He’ll get up without Ian, though. Without Shar-

“Steve?”

The voice was familiar and yet completely alien. He’d heard it before. He’d heard it recently. But as his eyes found the speaker, he could do little more than stare, even as she ran to him and her arms enclosed around his neck.

“Steve? What happened to you? Where did you go?”

He stared at her, her blonde hair clean, her uniform white and unmarked. She was wholly, unmistakably alive. “Sharon? How-”

He couldn’t say anymore. He collapsed, and she held him, gently rocking him back and forth while he sobbed.

*

Sharon watched him closely over the next several days. After shaving and cutting his hair, Steve looked just as young as when he’d first disappeared despite the decade that had passed in Dimension Z. The doctors gave him a clean bill of health, but Sharon knew Steve was far from healthy. She was familiar with PTSD, and he was familiar enough with it that he had to know he had it as well. He found it difficult to concentrate on tasks for too long, fell into bouts of melancholy that left the film from the forties’ newsreels slapping as he sat blindly in front of a blank wall. He tried to get back to work, get back to assignments, but he was more likely to get distracted than before. She wasn’t the only one who was worried he might get himself or someone else injured or killed. Sharon and Sam arranged for someone to be with him when he went out if they couldn’t stop him or go with him themselves.

She thought the nightmares were the worst, but that was only when she knew where he was at night. Sometimes she woke to an empty bed, an empty building. She began sleeping more lightly so she knew when he got out of bed trying not to disturb her, and then she would lay still in the darkness, listening for him to suit up or for the sound of the door, waiting for him to do something self-destructive. The second he was out the door, she’d be on the phone, searching for anyone in the area who could pretend to stumble into Steve’s path.

No, the worst times were the ones where he looked at her differently, like she was a monster on a scale he’d never encountered before. Whenever he realized she was looking back, he looked away and played it off as if it was nothing, but she knew him too well to believe it. 

She told him that SHIELD had people who could help. She didn’t point out that she’d had PTSD before, often enough that the symptoms were easily familiar to her. Instead, she told him that it was okay to be upset, that he could take all the time he needed, that he had friends who would support him and would be there for him.

It took months for him to tell her, to tell her of the other version of her shot Ian, his son, in the throat, completely unapologetic. He glared straight at her as if thinking she herself had done it. She stared back, meeting his eyes, but he didn’t look away as quickly as he had the other times, as if he suspected that some part of her was like the other one, the one who shot his son, as if his anger was beginning to overcome his reason. 

And now she understood why he looked at her sometimes as if she was a monster. She couldn’t blame him. She didn’t like it. She tried to believe that it was just the PTSD, that everything would be fine.

But the looks didn’t stop. Even as Steve started healing, their relationship faltered, and part of her knew it was only a matter of time before they either healed together or he pushed her away for good.

*

Their end wasn’t dramatic. It wasn’t flashy or loud. It was weeks in the making, more glances and glares from Steve, and then they turned sad, and she knew. The conversation was calm. Straightforward. Honest. Simple. They each understood what their relationship, what they themselves, meant to the other. They both wanted to do what was best for the other. So he pushed her away and she let him go.

*

Over the next few months, Sharon threw herself into SHIELD work with vigor. One week, she fought terrorists in Lahore, the next she gleaned information on future attacks in Estonia. She detoured back to Thailand on her way to Somalia to reassure herself X12 still wasn’t a threat.

She was torn between wanting to know everything about Steve’s activities and letting him live without her. They weren’t dating anymore, but she still cared about him. At first, Sam and Natasha kept her updated. And yet, it took overhearing SHIELD agents’ gossip to find out that Steve was getting closer to the Scarlet Witch. Sam and Natasha had decided not to tell her, but she assured them that she was actually pleased. It had taken her years after her supposed death to feel capable of getting close to someone again. That he could find someone to trust after all he’d been through was a good thing, and Wanda was a good person and an excellent Avenger. She told Sam and Natasha she was happy for them both. 

Both she and Steve fell into a routine without even realizing it, rushing from place to place over the world to contain and eliminate threats. They saw each other only twice over the course of the next year, and both times, Sharon was happy to see him. Few people knew him as well as she did, and she saw how much better he was, healthier. His enthusiasm at seeing her again wasn’t equal to hers, but she didn’t mind. After the initial shock, he didn’t look at her with the same hate and suspicion as before. It was progress. Proof that he was healing. She was happy for him. He may never love her as he had, haunted by images of someone with her face killing his son, but she hoped that one day he could be happy without blocking her out of his life entirely.

But she couldn’t forget what he’d been through. She knew he couldn’t, either. As the months passed, she realized that what held him back held her back as well. The thought that another her had been out there, that it had murdered a child. She wondered what Steve doubtless wondered - how similar was she to a woman who had shot a child in the throat? And she knew that she wouldn’t move on until she faced her own demons and brought them to heel.

More and more, she found herself standing on the train platform, looking down the tunnel. SHIELD had been here after Steve had returned from Dimension Z, leaving a gluttony of security features in their wake. 

But she was curious. She had so few answers about an ordeal she had taken part of but never taken part in. About what Zola really wanted from Steve. About what happened to Ian and all the others Steve had known there.

She’d been coming for months before she hopped lightly into the tunnel. She pulled off her trenchcoat and hid it out of sight in case SHIELD came by later.

“What are you doing?”

She spun, a gun already in her hand, and then her jaw went slack. Despite the age in the face, she still recognized it from Steve’s paintings. “You’re Ian.”

“And you’re Sharon Carter.”

And judging by how he was glaring at her, he had just as much trouble telling her apart from the Sharon Carter who had shot him years ago as Steve had. The gun he was aiming at her head wasn’t encouraging, either.


	2. A portal opens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve finds a bomb that turns out not to be a bomb. Natasha decides to start looking into her memory gaps. Sharon and Ian have a problem other than possibly shooting one another.

Steve stared at the bomb underneath the floor of the plane, his eyes following the edges of the box. He’d learned a few things about dismantling bombs, and he hadn’t forgotten much, even with all the time he’d spent in Dimension Z. Yet for all his years, all his knowledge, he couldn’t find a way to dismantle it. He couldn’t even figure out a way inside. There were no visible wires, as far as he could tell. But it _had_ to be a bomb. The HYDRA agents he and Bucky had followed onto the plane had taken care to hide it. They had died to protect it. HYDRA agents being secretive could only mean that this was bad.

“Steve. We’ve gotta get out of here. Plane’s going down whether you take care of the bomb or not.”

Steve nodded and joined Bucky at the door. Though his features didn’t show it, he still got anxious about Bucky being on a plane with a bomb on it. He got anxious about a lot of things that could hurt Bucky, actually. He knew, reasonably, that Bucky could hold his own, but Bucky was a brother to him, and Steve had already lost him too many times. “You first.”

Bucky smirked as if guessing his thoughts and gave Steve a cheeky salute. After all these decades, all that Bucky had survived, he still had an attitude. 

Steve wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Bucky’s hand had hardly fallen before he threw himself into the air. Steve prepared to follow, looking around the plane one last time to check for more survivors. His eyes fell on the bomb. He’d better go.

Why wasn’t there a way to turn off the bomb, though?

What if it wasn’t a bomb? It wasn’t as if he could find a way to turn it off. He hadn’t even found a way to turn it on.

Okay, so suppose the bomb wasn’t a bomb. Why would HYDRA agents try so hard to hide it?

Because there was something in it that was valuable to HYDRA.

If HYDRA wanted it safe, that was more than enough reason to find out what it was. He could grab it before the plane went down, jump out, and everything would be fine.

Decided, he turned back to the box in time to see it slide toward the cockpit. He lunged for it, and his fingers grazed the top. The plane whined beneath him, the metal grinding under the strain and making his teeth ache. He lunged again. This time he got a solid grip on the box and clutched it to his chest as he climbed over the seats to get back to the exit door.

“Steve? STEVE!” Steve couldn’t remember the last time he was so glad to see Sam Wilson’s face. For a moment, Sam seemed to feel the same, and then the Falcon’s expression darkened. “Come on, man, we’ve got to go.” Sam hopped down and landed on the back of a seat, reaching for Steve’s outstretched hand. Steve managed to grasp it, but then there was a deafening noise, and he felt himself blown forward. Sam’s hand was wrenched from his. Suitcases and food trays flew around the cabin; something struck him in the face. He couldn’t see beyond the debris to find Sam. Then he couldn’t see at all.

*

He woke in one of SHIELD’s medical facilities. Though the interior was spartan, he had woken up in enough rooms like this to notice that the lines of the bed curved a certain way, that the chairs all seem to have come from the same manufacturer that made the chairs in every other SHIELD facility. He suspected that SHIELD, like so many bureaucracies trying to save money, bought in bulk.

He rolled his head on his neck, then moved the rest of his limbs to make sure everything was in working order. Sam sprawled in a chair nearby, his arms bandaged and another bandage on his temple. Bucky stood against the far wall, his arms crossed and head bowed. If Steve didn’t know better, he’d think Bucky was sleeping.

Slowly, Steve shoved the covers off and set his bare feet on the floor. Where had they put his boots?

“When I tell you we’ve gotta get out of here, I mean that we have to get out of here.” Bucky’s tone was quiet, but Steve still heard the anger underneath.

“I thought maybe HYDRA had left something valuable behind.” He spotted his boots under the bed and sighed in relief. Most people tended not to think of how expensive his boots were to replace, but he had far too many receipts back home that served as reminders.

“Then we could have recovered it later. There was no reason to stay on a plane that was crashing, Steve.”

Steve wiggled his toes and pulled on his boots No socks, but he’d been in worse situations. He could feel Bucky’s eyes on him.

“You’re taking more risks, Steve. Sharon said you might do that.”

His tone was harsh as he cut Bucky off. “You’ve been talking to Sharon about me?” He swallowed and hung his head. Sharon was still a fresh wound for him. Even though they had parted amicably, even gotten along the few times they’d seen each other since then, he couldn’t think of her without thinking of all that had happened in Dimension Z. “Sorry.”

Bucky gave a slow nod. Steve didn’t think Bucky would ever fully understand what Dimension Z had been like, just as Steve would never fully understand what Bucky had been through during his captivity as the Winter Soldier. But he knew that Bucky would understand more than anyone else. They had been each other’s first brother.

“When she resigned as your liaison, she told Sam and me to look out for certain things, said that after you took heavy emotional hits, you took unnecessary risks that could get you hurt. Or worse.” He pushed away from the wall and sat on the bed beside Steve. “Don’t do that, Steve. I didn’t like it the first time you died. I don’t think I’d like it any more if you died again.”

Steve was silent for several minutes. At length, he grasped Bucky’s arm and nodded.

“Good,” a voice said from behind them. Steve half-turned. Sam hadn’t moved, but his eyes were open. “Now that he’s got that idiocy out of his system. Mind telling us why the hell you didn’t get out of the plane?”

“The box. The bomb, I mean. I don’t think it was a bomb.”

Steve watched Sam and Bucky look at one another.

“What?”

Sam and Bucky held each other’s eyes a moment longer before Bucky gave a small nod. “It wasn’t a bomb. It was a container. Broke open during the crash.”

Steve waited for him to continue. At length, he had to prod. “Well?”

Again, Sam and Bucky shared a look.

“Better show him,” Sam said.

*

Natasha tapped her fingers against her chin. In her head, she composed a list of her enemies, of Steve’s enemies, of the people associated with the Red Room.

But she couldn’t just consider her enemies. She had to consider her friends, too. She had asked Clint about why she couldn’t remember certain things, and he’d mentioned the Secret Avengers. She asked why these memories in particular, and he had fumbled for an answer before making some half-baked excuse and ducking down an air shaft.

She had to wonder how many other people had exes who dodged coversations by jumping down air shafts. 

Logan, at least, had been more composed, telling her not to think of it. But then he had offered her a beer. Logan, for all his tough exterior, was a softie. And he valued beer even more than he valued popcorn. He didn’t share either lightly. He’d tried to fob her off.

And it was all because of this man.

She listened again to the news report, though she had already committed it all to memory. She tracked down all the news reports she could find, listened to every whisper, asked around about his reputation, his likes and dislikes, everything she could find.

Now to track down James Buchanon Barnes and fill in the gaps.

*

“Nice gun.” Sharon didn’t recognize the make and model, but given that she knew where Ian had been living the past several years - months, for her, but still - she couldn’t be surprised.

“I made it myself.” His attention was focused on her, but she sensed that he didn’t seem as confident as he wanted to. Nonetheless, she was careful not to move too quickly.

“Steve thinks you’re dead. He’ll be glad to know you’re not. Don’t you think we should go tell him?”

“I-” Ian frowned. “You’re manipulating me.”

Well, he’d called that one quickly enough. “I’m not lying, though. Just trying to keep you from shooting me.”

“I’m not going to shoot-” He was interrupted by the sound of gunfire, a slug catching him in his side. He grunted and threw himself onto Sharon, tackling her to the ground.

Her mind spun. Where had the bullets come from? Who was trying to kill Ian? How had they known he would be here? Or had they known at all? Had they followed her? In which case, was Ian the target at all?

Not that it mattered right now. Her gun was already drawn, held behind his head as she waited for someone to appear on the platform.

Ian slammed the ground, grunting as he grabbed Sharon and rolled over.

“What are you do-”

And then she was falling, her hair whipping behind her. Over his shoulder, she saw an expanse of rubble and forest, all tinged green. She gasped as she saw trees rushing up to meet them. She pushed away from Ian, looking in all directions. The hole in the sky above them was closing. She didn’t have any grappling hooks. But there had to be a way. There was always a way.

Ian pulled her back to his chest. “Wait.”

She felt the impact through his body as they hit the trees, branches breaking as they fell. When they finally hit a limb that didn’t break, Ian flipped over, but his grip was just as firm as before. He didn’t let go until they hit the ground, the air exploding from Sharon’s lungs as she landed.

“Welcome to Dimension Z, Sharon Carter.” Ian coughed twice, then passed out.

*

Steve frowned at the device on the table before him. Sam and Bucky stood behind him, one of the SHIELD scientists on the other side.

“What, exactly, am I looking at?” he asked. 

The scientists startled. Steve had noticed the man looking at the inside of Steve’s elbows and the veins in Steve’s neck. He wouldn’t be surprised if the man wanted some of Steve’s DNA. He’d have to speak to Acting Director Hill about that. Steve’s DNA was supposed to be destroyed after every check-up for a reason, and he didn’t want a scientist to try to snag some on the sly.

“Uh... a transdimensional device, sir. Captain. It can open a portal to a specific dimension. But it can only be used once.”

“Do we know what dimension?”

“Uh... not... technically?

Steve looked at the scientist and lifted an eyebrow.

“Just tell him, man,” Sam urged.

The scientist swallowed. “We found samples of the device that matched the ones we took from you after you... disappeared. Si- Captain!”

“Dimension Z?” Steve looked at the device before him with renewed interest. Was it possible that- No. Ian was dead. Sharon - the real Sharon - wasn’t there. He forced himself to think about the situation and not focus on the near-impossibility of finding his son again, if only his son’s body. “What would HYDRA want with a portal that could open Dimension Z?”

Bucky inclined his head to the door. “Let’s go find out.”


	3. Chapter 3

Ian stirred and pushed himself up; a calming hand on his shoulder pushed him down firmly but gently. It reminded him of his Papa, and for a moment, he thought maybe the past decades had been only a dream. But the thought couldn’t last - the hand was too small - and he forced himself to open his eyes as he tried again to stand.

“Easy.”

The woman. Sharon Carter. She still looked like Papa’s paintings. He studied her for a moment, his eyes lowering to note that her guns were in their holsters, and let her push him back. But he didn’t trust her enough to accept the - was that some sort of animal skin? - bottle of water she offered him. He eyed it suspiciously.

She took a swig of the water before setting it within Ian’s reach. “You’ve been shot, and you took some more knocks during the fall. Broken ribs, broken wrist. Felt like you have a broken tibula, too. I’ve bandaged you up, but you need to take it easy.”

He looked at the water a moment later before taking a sip. “How long have I been out?”

“Sixteen hours. Give or take.” She held up her wrist so he could see her watch. “I know time is weird here. My watch is on home-time.”

“Home-time,” Ian repeated. “Is that different from time now?”

She nodded. “Steve thought he was gone for twelve years, but he’d only been gone half an hour. Time moves differently in some universes.”

“Papa never mentioned that.” When he saw her faint grin, his brows knit together in anger and suspicion. “What?”

“Papa. It’s-” She shook her head. “Never mind. We’re going to need food. What’s safe to eat?”

“I’ll get it.” Ian pushed himself up and groaned as pain shot up his sides.

Immediately, the woman was at his side, pushing him back down. It occurred to him that other than Jet, this was the first female woman he had ever met. He tried to turn his focus from his thoughts and his pain to her words. “-telling you to take it easy to hear myself talk.”

He grunted, resting his head on the leaves. “I’ve had worse.”

She grimaced, looking as if she’d heard that before. “I’m sure you have. But for right now, rest. I’ll see what I can work out.”

*

When he came home, Natasha was waiting. Natasha watched him from the shadows, sizing him up against what she knew. James Buchanon Barnes, known as Bucky. Captain America’s sidekick in WWII, went missing before the end of the War. Fished out of the water by the Russians, turned into an assassin and spy, a weapon named the Winter Soldier, then found and evidently restored to his memories by Steve Rogers. He had taken on the mantle of Captain America after Steve had died, and then died during the fight with Skadi. According to documents she had found, Natasha had been there at the time, and yet she didn’t remember anything about him that day. She didn’t remember anything about him at all.

He wasn’t unhandsome, but Natasha had seen handsome men before. 

He opened a panel in the wall. Inside, guns lined the wall. He didn’t hesitate in making his choices, grabbing some extra ammo from a small shelf. It was now or never.

Before she stepped forward, though, he spoke. 

“I don’t have time for this right now. If you’re going to shoot me, do it. But I’d appreciate it if you could do it afterward.” He turned toward her, and Natasha aimed her gun at his forehead. How long had he known she was there? “I’d feel better with you on the case, if you want to come. It’s important. I know you might not believe me, but it involves Steve and Sharon. SHIELD lost contact with them when they were on mission.”

They stared at each other for several moments, and it seemed, at first, as if he wanted to say something more. But he pressed his lips into a thin line and headed toward the door. “Lock it behind you.”

It had barely closed behind him before she was following him. She didn’t know why she had already decided to work with him, didn’t know why she trusted him even though she’d never met him before. Something else to ask him about.

*

The Red Skull and Dr. Faustus studied the rows of monitors before them. “It occurs to me, Herr Skull,” Dr. Faustus said quietly, “that Zola would not accomplish half so much without your assistance.”

The Skull smiled. As accustomed as he was to it after all their time together, Faustus was still bothered by that smile. Every time it appeared, bad things happened. “And I would not have accomplished so much without him. And you, Doctor.”

“I am as much a pawn in your schemes as anyone,” Faustus said, his tone humble.

The Skull chuckled. “Yes, I suppose you are.” His eyes hadn’t moved from the monitors while they spoke. He leaned back in his seat and steepled his fingers. “Why don’t you go play with your toy, Doctor. I will let you know if I need you again.”

Faustus nodded and left, going through the compound to the room where he kept his “toy.” Faustus could understand why Skull would refer to his “toy” as such, but Faustus had imagined it to be differently.

He sat in his chair in front of the tube and once again battled with the temptation to do as he wanted. It could ruin all their plans, and yet, each time was more difficult.

*

It turned out that the plants in Dimension Z weren’t so different from Earth’s. Ian approved her choices, and the two shared a simple meal as they looked through the trees to the valley. They drank water from her flask; Ian said they wouldn’t have enough time to boil the nearby stream water enough to make it safe to drink.

“We can’t stay for long. The mutates will be searching for us. It’s dangerous to spend too much time in one place.” Bracing himself against a tree, Ian pulled himself up before Sharon could stop him. But she was at his side as soon as he was standing.

“How did you even get up there in the first place?” she asked. After ascertaining that he could stand on his own, she hurried to clean the site before he could try and do any of it himself. He had refused as much of her help as possible throughout the afternoon. The more time she spent with him, the more he reminded her of Steve. “If I’m going to get back home, I need to know.”

“No.” He shook his head. “You factor into their plans somehow, and they need you to be outside of Dimension Z to do it. So until we find a way to st-” He stopped as he noticed Sharon watching the valley below. He moved to stand beside her and cursed. Though the mutates kept to the cover of the trees, they weren’t skilled enough to hide their presence completely. Their armor reflected light from above, and several trees were bending as the larger mutates shoved their way through the woods. “We have to go.” He grabbed Sharon’s arm and turned to run, but he barely took two steps before he doubled over in pain.

“Tibula,” Sharon reminded him, wrapping an arm under his and half-carrying, half-dragging him up the hill. “We’ll have to make a stand. We don’t have time for false trails.”

“I can handle it,” Ian gritted.

“So can I.” She stopped at the base of a tree near the top of the hill and let him go. She handed him her two guns and her belt with the extra ammo. “Here. Climb up so you’re out of reach. If it looks like we have to fight, I’ll work from the ground, and you’ll work from the tree. Use your shots sparingly. It looked like there were only twenty of them.”

“Twenty that you saw.” He studied the guns in his hands for a moment. They were different from his own, lost somewhere in the fall. They felt heavier.

Sharon watched him for several seconds, then hastily explained what the different parts were and how to reload. Most of it Ian seemed to already know, but she felt better making sure he understood the weapons completely. She would rather have them with her, of course, but she wouldn’t be able to cover him while in the midst of a fight, and he stood a better chance of surviving and keeping her alive if he had them with him. “Now. Up.”

She waited until he was several tree limbs above her before climbing up after him. There was still a chance the mutates would pass them without noticing them. A fight was the worst-case scenario, one she hoped to avoid.

She could hear the mutates as she climbed, speaking in broken English. She would be surprised if they could sneak up on anyone - they seemed to enjoy fighting each other as much as hunting prey. She almost smirked when she saw one try to stab another with a spear. With any luck, if she had to fight them, she would be able to get them to kill one another.

But her blood ran cold when she saw what stopped the fight from proceeding. It was her, her hair was matted, knotted, her mouth so twisted that it was unfamiliar. The eyes were lifeless. Leather straps covered her chest and her arms, a version of her white uniform torn at the legs. And in her midriff was a monitor showing the face of Arnim Zola.


End file.
